Spring Fever
by ZoharSkarth
Summary: Spring sets in and along with it some side effects for the three oldest of the flock. The bird genetics kick in a little more than usual and send them into unkown territory. With hormones, friction, and arguaments abound how will they manage? R&R please.
1. Revelation

Max POV:

This day SUCKED. Majorly. And it's not even noon yet. The odd part is I don't even really know why. It's hard to pinpoint. I just feel tense and edgy. Energized to the point where I think I'm going to explode, which would be bad since I'm sitting on our new couch in our new living room in our new house. The flock and I had decided to finally settle after Itex's crumbling fall, and here we are. A whole house all to ourselves out in the middle of bloody nowhere. But here I was ready to spoil out poor sofa and carpet with an explosion of Max-brains. I needed to burn off steam. I needed something. I just don't quite know what.

Seeing as it's spring, the weather is lovely, and there is nobody around for miles I rocketed off the couch, through the front door and launched into the sky. Pouring on some super speed I easily reached 340 miles an hour. Over time I had gradually been able to go faster and faster, and let's just say that my power is the coolest ever. Don't think that around Angel. But the increase in speed had really happened recently, around when I turned seventeen. But who knew when I actually had my birthday seeing as I picked it out for myself.

Flying is such a rush! Wings beating, feathers ruffling through thin air currents. Usually it makes me forget, at least momentarily, all of my troubles. Not today. Because today sucks. Today, I name thee "Really Sucky Day". Commemorating the atrociousness of feeling that something is off and that I need something.

I can hear the birds singing and slow to watch them. A frenzy of nesting and calling out to each other is taking place just below me. A large black bird is making a menace of himself by attacking a pair of sparrows. The forest is rampant with such scenes. The other animals are out and about recovering after winter. Squirrels rejoice in the fresh sunshine and replenish their dwindling supplies. A mother bear lumbers out of her den with two cubs tentatively following her.

I still feel like I itch inside my skin. I don't know what I want, but I want something. I can't really dfine or explain it quite. But I'm anxious. And the logical part of Max is screaming that somethings not right. Maybe I'll ask Fang to check my neck to make sure I don't have and expiration date yet. Who knows?

So as I'm still on edge I fly back to the house.

Fang POV:

I woke up late. I never wake up late. Something is wrong. I suppose I can't complain as last night's dreams were pretty incredible. Max… I halted my mind before it wandered too far away from me. I shifted uncomfortably. I felt restless.

Looking at my clock I realize that it's almost ten in the morning. Jeez. So I get ready for the day. Clothes on. Check. Hair somewhat managed. Check. Ready to roll.

I head out of my room feeling a charge fo adrenaline. Quickly I look around, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. But there's nothing there.

Snarling I shout "SHOW YOURSELF!"

Ready to leap at the threat my body thrums with tension like a coiled cobra ready to strike. A second passes. Nothing happens. I hear Nudge's call barely from outside, "What's going on Fang? Is something wrong?"

I glance around again, but nothing is out of the ordinary. Nothing is wrong. But it feels wrong. I don't know. So I call to tell her nothing's wrong and continue walking down the hallway. My hallway. The house is mine, right? I AM co-leader of the Flock. Sure Max is the leader, and I'm fine with that. She's amazing at it. Well, overall she's amazing at everything. I tend not to talk much to avoid spouting silly things about her. Like how her hair shimmers in the sun, and how her wings ruffle in a really cute way when I annoy her. Just thinking of Max right now has put me in a predicament. I put my hand in my pocket and think about ugly people. Ugly Erasers. Old Ugly Erasers. Old Ugly Erasers doing Iggy. Ewwwww. Mission accomplished and the tent of my pants is unpitched.

I feel oddly possessive at the moment. And preoccupied. This house is mine. This floor is mine. That wall is mine. You don't touch my wall. The lawn is mine. The woods are mine. My room is mine. Max is mine. Well that last one isn't quite correct. The history between Max and myself has been codl turkey for awhile. But now I have the urge, no drive, to fix that. Max will be mine as I am hers. Mine. Did I mention this house is mine?

I bristled again as the hairs on the back of my neck rose. A snarl nearly pulls its way out of my throat. I freeze and am poised to attack. The threat is near. It's in MY house, MY space, MY territory. I bolt through the kitchen door towards the invader… only to stop. I see Iggy in the same crouched position ready to attack.

Now I'm confused. My danger radar must be WAAAY off if it's picking up Iggy as a threat. But I still can't make my body quite relax. All I can do is grind out a not so pleasant greeting, "Iggy."

His blind eyes narrow, icily he asks, "What are you doing in MY kitchen Fang?" My name is spat out by his tongue like a diseased word.

I can't help it, the words bubble out of my mouth just as coldly, "What are YOU doing in MY house Iggy?"

"YOUR house?! YOU actually think that this is YOUR house? Are you mad?! This is, quite obviously, MY house. My kitchen. My place. Without a doubt, MINE." Iggy's glare intensifies.

I want to hit him. I've never wanted to really hit him before, but now I'm almost shocked by the rage I feel. The over bearing desire not just to hit him, but to beat the living shit out of him. Leave him crawling below me on the ground like a worm. To show him who really is in charge. Alpha male ego? You bet. My skin crawls at his presence. Logically I know there's no reason we should be fighting at all. No reason to break his bones. But that little bit of sanity is drowned out by a sea of red. I'm seeing red. He has challenged me in my domain. My kingdom. Idiot thinks he owns the place. I really should knock his brains out for his stupidity. My skin crawls jus with his presence and I want nothing more at this moment than for him to be long gone; far, far away.

The thought of an impending fight is stopped when Nudge barges into the room. My skin boils. I've never felt this way about Nudge. I look at her and can see the same thoughts floating through Iggy's mind. I want Nudge. In a way that was formerly only reserved by the one and only Maximum Ride. But I can feel myself get turned on. Jeez, this is so wrong. I'm that far gone that I don't realize that. This is wrong. And with that thought I realize that the same wrongness that concerns me being attracted to Nudge is going on with Iggy. I shouldn't hate him. My brain is starting to kick start again. But along with that revelation my body is still not reacting to my thoughts. Nudge is still talking and has no idea of the dilemma she has just posed for me and Iggy. Nudge is a sister to me. And I'm not the incestuous type. With Max its different. It just always seemed to me that Max was the one for me. We would be together. There would always be an "us". But now here's Nudge. And my body. And I'm not sure if I like where this is headed. Speaking of Max I heard the front door open and she charged through the house to her bedroom. Completely, obliviously, missing the drama that was unfolding here.

"Iggy. We. Need. To. Talk. … Privately." I manage to grind out in a slightly less "I'ma gonna keel joo!" sort of voice.

"Sure."

It looks like Iggy is also trying to be diplomatic under the circumstances. Nudge leaves with a weird look on her face, luckily never really noticing our *ahem* discomfort. "Iggy, there is something really wrong here. I don't know what. So until we figure this out I think neither of us should act on our, um, impulses. I also think we shouldn't be in each other's space. I think we need to split the house. Kitchen and front half yours, hallway to the back mine. Just so we each know who owns what and there's no argument. Deal?" Longest speech ever given by Fang. That's what I'll call this conversation later.

"… Deal. Get out of my Kitchen."

I stepped out, still a part of me was raging about giving up space to Iggy. From the hallway I said, "Ig, don't do something you'll regret later. So resist that urge I know you just felt."

Iggy stared dumbly at me, "How did you…"

"Know? Easy, I felt it too. Something is wrong." I just didn't know what yet. And seeing as I could no longer tolerate Iggy's presence for the same odd reason I left. I was deep in thought so I was slightly shocked to find myself outside of Max's door. I was inexplicably pulled to her room. The door was open a crack and I couldn't resist. I peeked in.

The was Max, bustling about around her bed. Just seeing her sent any thoughts of Nudge flying out the window. My blood pounded and I seriously needed to fix my problem down there before Max saw it and killed me for my perverted ways. But it seemed I was lucky, she was busy twisting and pulling off the blankets and pillows. I watched her working and my mind drifted off to fantasies. I could not stop ogling. He ass was perky, round, succulent, the jean she wore were tight. As a matter of fact my jeans were feeling awfully tight too. Her breasts pushed against the fabric of her tank top as if to escape the confine s of the fabric. I sent them a secret prayer hoping that they succeeded in freeing themselves right now. In front of me. Her wings twitched. Finally after all the energy she put into it she stepped back. Looking… proud? The bed was a mess. A nest of blankets and pillows was formed in the center. She sighed, and mumbled to herself, "I don't know why I just did that."

Than it hit me like a ton of bricks. An epiphany. It all made sense. The animosity between Iggy and myself, our possessiveness, our territorial behavior, our reaction to Nudge, and now Max's nest. We were avian Americans, and it was spring. We were in some kind of heat.


	2. Dry Tinder Burns

**AN: Hello dear Readers, IT IS I! I'm NOT dead. Sorry it takes me so long, I get al depressive and I can't do anything. But with your beloved encouragement I present you with the next chapter! I DON'T OWN MAXIMUM RIDE AND I'M SURE JAMES PATTERSON WOULD PREFER TO SHOOT ME FOR MY DIRTY USE OF HIS CHARACTERS. (You of course wouldn't shoot me my fellow gutter-dwellers. This Chapter is going to BRING ON THE HEAT! So if you're young, run away. If you're a perv, rejoice! Tell me what you like and dislike and I'll make it better, if you don't critique my work sucks more. So critique to get quicker longer updates of the stuff you want!**

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Max POV:

I just finished it. What is 'it' you ask? Why, I've finally gone crazy. I have a voice in my head and now I'm making nests. That's it. Max's crazy nest. I don't even know why I made it. The weirdest part is that now I feel better having mad it. Some of the restlessness is gone. A little. And I'm stumped as to why making a nest in my bed makes me feel better. See? I really have gone off the deep end. Itex dies, and I'm still paranoid. Make a nest out of blankets and I'm relatively at peace with the world. Screwy, screwy world.

I turn away from my odd creation only to see Fang lurking by my door. But before I can tell him it's really creepy to stalk people my breathe catches and my heart pounds. Fang. All I can think of is Fang. And how his dark eyes are intense. The heat in his gaze makes me shiver. And before I know it he's standing in front of me. I can't help but be mesmerized by him. I've always loved him, but now I was ready to pounce on him, and that just wasn't me. We weren't really going out. I guess it was sort of an unspoken thing that he and I were always meant for each other. Well I thought so anyways. Up until this point I had no idea that it was mutual.

"Max…" He whispered huskily sending another shiver across my skin, "I don't know what's going on."

"What do you mean?" But I think I do. The smoldering in his eyes, the Max-nest I just made, and the time of year. We for the very first tiem are experiencing an avian American heat cycle. It seems as if my blood cannot boil any hotter, and yet my skin shivers as if it were cold just from the intensity of his gaze. Usually his eyes are dark and closed off, now with a single look I see him. His wants, his needs, what he's thinking, what he's feeling. And it's mutual. I never really thought he felt this way, but it's so much harder to lie with your eyes than your words, the eyes are the window to the soul. And all I can see in Fang's are love, confusion, and lust. I feel stupid for asking. I really do know hwat he means. And I finally come to comprehend what exactly it was I wanted earlier. I want Fang.

And before can say anything else stupid he pulls me in. As our lips meet an electric current runs between us. His lips are soft and gentle at first, then more lustful as we continue. His hands but themselves in my hair, as the sweet caress of lips on lips continues. His hands clench tighter on my hair, his mouth more aggressive and I gasp. He takes the advantage to lick my bottom lip, begging for a deeper kiss. I gladly initiate it. Our tongues are rolling, stroking and caressing. He moans into my mouth and the vibrations are sensual. The passion in the room seems to have set it on fire as my skin is ablaze. The room spins and pivots, and always at its center is Fang, Fang, Fang. And I know that it will always be this way for me. The new center of my universe is Fang. Birds mate for life. There will be no other. As this dawning moment occurs in my foggy mind I gasp for breath and as I try to trap enough oxygen in my lungs to survive he covers my face in butterfly soft kisses.

"Max, Max, Max…" I hear him pant his hot breath against my face and neck warming my already too hot skin. "Did you always know I love you?" I freeze, and he senses it. "Really Max. It's true. And I know you love me too. There will always be an 'us'."

I intensify the kiss and pull his head closer roughly. He's never said those words before, and I can hear them pulse with his sincerity. Indeed we will always be each others. I nip at his lips and her grins in the kiss. His hands begin to wander down my sides sending a shiver up my spine. He lingers at my waist before moving his hands to the small of my back. He gently tugs me forward and we're standing pressed against each other. His skin is just as hot as mine, and I can feel his breathe come in fast pants. I can even feel his heart pounding. Just like mine.

He grinds his hips into mine, and I stop. I can feel his erection throb, and I know we have to stop before this goes further. But a very large part of me wants to forget that, and enjoy the pleasures of desire. Fang obviously has quite good sexual instincts, and I know I would enjoy it. But … a twinge in my mind tells me no. And I've relied on that gut instinct. So I carefully pull away and rest my forehead on his. He realizes what I want and in a great triumph of will stops grinding against me. For that I'm grateful, mush more of it and any thought would have ceased to exist in my brain. It almost looks like physical pain for him to pull just inches away from me. His dark eyes are heavy lidded as they piece my own. He waits for me to voice my concerns.

"Fang, should we… really be… doing this?" I manage to huff in between my heavy breathing.

"Max…."

"Are we really ready? Is this… just… I don't know. What is this Fang? I know how I feel, but can you actually feel the same way?"

His eyes flicked as he thought it out, "Max, I know this. I do love you. Truly. I think you feel the same way. This is just more sudden, because well… I have a theory. Max, Max tell me you love me please…" Fang looked like a trapped animal in pain, wait for the end or chew off his foot.

I sighed and closed my eyes, "Fang, I love you. I think I might have always loved you… What do you think is going on? Are we just frustrated teens, or is the whole 2% bird gene thing kicking us in the ass?"

He chuckled and it felt like velvet was rubbed down me. A caress of sweet laughter and a rare smile, "Max, I think it's a bit of both. Obviously I'm a horny pervert…" I lightly smacked him. "and it's spring. I think this is some sort of heat."

"Oh." And with that our roles were reversed. I had nothing to say to that, and he had just said so much. I felt awkward, was nothing we felt real? Just an instinctual drive for reproduction? Did he ever really love me? Could I be certain I loved him?

"Max, don't block me out. Let me in. Say something please." His eyes were scrutinizing my face, trying to decipher answers off of my expression.

"It's just that… Is this really love?" Now it was me trying to tear every miniscule reaction from his face and process it into an answer. He was silent for a minute.

"Max, this phase thing started today. I know these feelings for you, this love of mine for you, lasted long before this. And I won't let this change anything. I can go away for its duration if you want… But if you feel the same way, then why is there anything wrong with feeling in love?"

I think I was gaping at him. One part of that was he was still sort of sweaty and his hair was messed from my hands gripping it, and the other was that today, he was talking. Like really talking. A lot. And, I inspected my own emotions for a minute. Did I love Fang? Yes. Was it wrong to feel this way? No, I didn't think so. So all I really managed to do was squeak out, "…don't leave…."

"I will never leave you if that's what you want Max."

I could tell he was waiting for an answer on how I felt on the matter. Screwing up my courage, my fierceness, I looked him right in the eyes. And very nearly melted in my commando boots. All I saw was love in those midnight depths. "Fang… I do love you. It's not just the hormones. I love you Fang." And with some extra courage to spare squeezed in a joke, "THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSS MUCH." And spread out my arms are far as they would go and my wings out to full extension. He grinned like a maniac, a wide joyous smile that having been used so little made his face look odd. A small laugh escaped me and he frowned.

"What's funny?"

"You're face looked like a manic eraser!" I laughed. His scowl deepened and I laughed again.

He growled and nabbed me pinning me again to him. With the same possessive growl he ravaged my neck. Nibbling up and down I shivers as his teeth continued to tease my skin. I moaned when I felt his tongue flick out and lick my earlobe before he started sucking on it. He stopped when he heard my moan, "God, Max… You have absolutely… no idea what … you do to me…" His eyes were screwed shut. He sighed, "Max. Tell me. Continue or stop? It's killing me to do neither, this is too much and yet not enough. I refuse to pressure you. This is your decision. Do you want to…? Or if not how far are you willing to go? You've gotta talk to me Max. I'm not a mind reader."

My eyes seemed glazed. I focused on his face, "Er. No… umm…"

He was the epitome of patience right now. And I knew it was all on the surface, inside he was roiling with need. Because I was too. I sucked in a breathe and rushed it out, "nosexrightnowfang." Slower I said with a face that I'm sure looked like a tomato, "underwear stays on."

His grin again spread across his awing face, "Max. You're blushing." And without a pause his lips crashed down on my own. I think he muttered "soft" but it was so muffled by the movement of our lips and I was too distracted to really tell.

Again my skin felt like fire, my heart beat frantically, and my breathing sped. Fang nipped my lip and pulled it a little in a playful motion. I groaned and his actions became more lustful. Our tongues writhed, out lips locked, and our hands were in each other's hair forcing the other closer. It wasn't close enough for him. Touching the hem of my shirt he pulled it clean over my head breaking the heated kiss for only a second. His hands traveled where his eyes had yet to roam. His calloused muscular hands made slow circles on my abdomen, seemed to count my ribs, and massage my sides. All the while our kiss continued to escalate. His mouth pulled away from mine for a second and I realized why. He looked down at my body and I became self aware. He looked into my eyes to reassure me before his mouth came down on my shoulder.

He tasted every inch of my newly exposed skin. Tongue lapping at my navel and silly bites on my bra in faux anger at it. He went to undo the claps and I stopped him. His eyes were smoldering and my breathe caught. "Max… puff… pleeeeeease don't tell me you consider _that_ underwear…"

His annoyance and rivalry with my bra amused me and I smiled at him. He stopped and goofily grinned at me. I tugged his shirt, "Off."

He didn't even pull it over his head. With his hands at the collar he ripped the fabric off, and in shreds it was flung away from his torso. "Better?" His voice was husky and rough; the very echoes sent shivers down my spine and made me feel like I was rubbed with fur. I didn't reply verbally, instead I pounced on him, knocking him back as I straddled his waist. A groan issued from his mouth as his jaw clenched. I couldn't stop my hands as they explored his chest. What can I say? The boy was built. Every muscle was active as my hands skimmed his skin, every once in a while they would twitch under my hand. He fascinated me. The curve os his shoulder, the lines of his abs, everything about him was perfect. I claimed this perfection. He was mine. I sank my mouth down on his shoulder and he groaned. I wanted to mark him, he was mine. My teeth grazed up his shoulder and neck to his ear and I licked it gently, he hissed. Then I bit down where his neck and shoulder met, savoring the flavor that was uniquely Fang.

"Shit, Max!" He growled out. "Oh God…"

I leaned in to his ear again, my breath tickling him, "What do you want Fang? What do you want?"

His dark eyes opened and the heat almost overwhelmed me. And as quick as a blink of those transfixing eyes he had us flipped. His clothed erection pressed into me, "This is what I want." And he ground our hips together roughly. The world spun. All I could do was grind back against him. His hands were on my hips forcing me closer as we both sought our release. The friction was terrible, the friction was glorious. I felt like every part of me was electrocuted and my toes curled from the fire. "Harder." He grunted in acknowledgement.

"Oh… jeez… fuck… Max… I'm gonna cum…"

And that sent me over the cliff, I writhed under him in absolute euphoria as I orgasmed. Hard. I could feel every muscle clenching again as I spun off into a fantastic oblivion. I barely noticed by my actions sent him spilling into his jeans and he stiffened and then fell on top of me, my own heated blanket.

We lay there attempting to catch our breath as it seemed to evade us. Flying for ours? No problem catching our breath. Fighting Eraser ass? Also, no problem. Dry humping the shit out of each other? We're gasping like land locked fish.

He growled in frustration and I turned my still fuzzy head to see him. "What?"

His eyes narrowed, "I didn't even get your pants off!" He looked at a loss and glared at the entrapping denim.

"So?" was my nonchalant reply.

He continued his feud my jeans, "Urrrrrg."

"There's always next time," I huffed with a wink.

And that seemed to resolve the tension between my pants and Fangs warring resentment of them. He grinned another blindingly sincere face split (I'm going to have to get used to this I see) and huskily whispered in my ear, "And the next time, and the next time, and the next..."

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**AN: REVIEW OR I DON'T WRITE! Your dear author is schizophrenic and needs encouragement, thank you to all who reviewed before. I love you! I just need a lot of good kicks, AND REAL CRITQIUE. State what you liked, what you didn't like (be specific), and TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!!! I'm not a mind reader. What do you want to see? "FAX" is not a specific enough!**


	3. Shock Wave

**Hello, you're all ever so patient. I love you all. Truly I do. You guys keep me writing. Otherwise I just grind to a halt and have bouts of waxy flexibility. So here I present to you, chapter three. HINT: keep an eye out for the differences in Max's, Fang's, and Iggy's minds. **

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Iggy POV:

Pace, pace, pace, pace. Why was I so on edge? Every nerve ending on jitters, nervous energetic tension holding me taught as a ripcord. Pace, pace, pace. The kitchen which usually seemed so large grew small in my anxious pacing, my feet seeming to consume more and more floor with every pass. Back and forth through my dominion. Past the pots, the pans, the stove, the refrigerator. My usually calming sanctuary seemed a prison. A cage for a pathetic blind canary.

I don't think I could take it any longer. I still don't know why Fang's presence had me wanting to shred his face off with my favorite cheese grater. He was my brother, and yet when he came into my kitchen I... I just wanted to crush him. Silly, stupid, blind bird kid. There was no real reason to fight Fang, no reason to despise him with such a passion. It couldn't be explained. I could only hope it would pass, the house couldn't stay divided forever.

My hand skimmed gently over my oven, usually a comfort to myself. The smooth hard surface provided some imagined support. Today this familiar touch of metal offered no aide. The house itself was eerily silent.

I knew Nudge, The Gasman, and Angel were out somewhere flying. Probably through the trees or something. But that still left the question of Max and Fang.

Fang by himself was an anomaly if loud; the guy seemed to have digested his vocal cords for the most part in a fit of angst. Max on the other hand was the opposite. Max was generally loud and made her presence known, our dear leader wasn't a stickler for the beloved 'in door voices only' rule. Pity, my ears could probably last longer without screams, yells, explosions, and what not radiating through them.

Max.

My blood seemed to boil. Max. Argh, if only I could see. I pictured Max in a bikini like the beach bunnies I had Fang describe to me so long ago.

She would be wiry, strong; muscular and fit. Yet curvy. Max had boobs right? I couldn't see (pity the blind kid!) and of course couldn't _feel._ So all I had is this mental image to oogle. Even that though… lust seemed to flood my system.

A fit of lustful lunacy hits me. I could go find Max. I could go find her and… and what? Reality Iggy: She'll smack you up. If I tell her I'm a pervert picturing her in a bikini… or less, in my head? That would never do. I can hear the "SEXIST PIG!" right now as if Gazzy was pranking me.

Jeez. She had such soft skin. I know this. From all my times of playing doctor I knew this; I remembered my hands skimming her body, gently.

I stood in my kitchen, my domain, and perved on mental images of my sister. (Poor pathetic blind kid). I imagined my hands on her bare flesh, each caress, my hands on that forbidden soft side of the dear leader. Would she buck against me? I pictured her as a wild one…. Oh, God, Iggy you've hit rock bottom….

And with that I slumped onto the wood floor. How could I be feeling like this? I had always felt for Max like a sister, so why was it now that I couldn't keep my mind from drowning in the gutter?

I turn my pointless eyes towards where I know the oven is, "You suck, you know that?"

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Fang POV:

I can't believe I just did that. I can't believe I just did that. I REALLY can't believe I just did that. We did that.

I'm here. In Max's messed up bed, just laying down, staring at her. And she's staring at me. I wonder what she's thinking. I hope it's not about that she didn't like what we just… did. Or performed? Or… And I hope she isn't regretting it. What if she regrets it? My heart felt as if it hovered a brink to some terrible pit, if she hated me now it would surely fall and smash to oblivion. Oh Max.

But she had said we could do that again right? Hearing that wasn't just my hopeful delusions right? Whatever God there is for mutant bird kids, please let her have said that.

And her pants… They will be 'misplaced' for their treachery. The Gasman would appreciate the new fuse for a bomb.

"Fang, Earth to Fang..."

My daydreams halted and I was jerked back into a moment that I was stupid to leave.

"Huh?" Very intelligent conversationalist is he says Yoda, great job Fang.

"I love you, but the kids are going to come back sometime soon…. Sooo…"

She squirmed nervously. And this I could understand. I did NOT want to be caught half naked sprawled in Max's bed. Not a pleasant picture. I could imagine Nudge would speak of nothing for the next week, and the Nudge Channel is broadcasting 24/7.

So I nod, and reply, oh so tactfully, "I'm going to shower."

That's me. Mr. Ace Of Conversational Arts. The carpet squishes under my feet. My carpet, should the need to remind anyone rise. My Max. That just brings up what we did and, why hello there Mr. Happy. Pants suck, always, but the entrapping denim is shed soon enough.

The water's warm, as it pelts my back. Interesting how I was too involved in my fantasy to even recall turning it on and getting in.

Max… my hand drifts south. It rubs against my chest, down each ab muscle… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Curled black hair greets the eager pilgrims of my finger tips. I pretend it's not my hand, but Max's.

Max's hand wraps around my shaft, slowly going up. Her thumb rubs gentle circles on the head. Her fingers trace the veins gently before wrapping around and pumping with more vigor. She always special minds to the tip, each time sending electric pulses through me that make me unconsciously buck and stiffen. Harder, faster. Some animalistic groan escapes me. Shut up Fang. My fantasy continues, progresses, gets dirtier, and finally I crash again. Muscles spasming in blinding ecstasy for the second time today.

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I can't believe we just did that. Invincible Maximum Ride just shamelessly dry humped her best friend. But Fang was so much more than that. He was my second in command, my confidant, my inside joke keeper, my support, my comforter. And it felt so natural to just be with him.

Bird genetics or not, this would have probably happened anyway at some point. It was inevitable. And by God, was it amazing. His tongue was skilled; the hands that crushed the bones of foes were incredibly gentle. As if she was some sacred treasure to be painstakingly revered in every inch with incredible care.

I, Maximum Ride, felt loved…

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Fang POV:

I was just dressed, but my hair was till dripping as I heard a knock on my door.

"Come in." I already knew it was Max. Who else would bother?

She blushed. "Fang, I've got a mission for you. We need some groceries and stuff. Here's a list."

The list is chucked at me with the force of shrapnel from a grenade. I wonder what's on it. I nod to Max, but she's already gone. I unfold the paper. My eyes are greeted with two words.

_Get condoms._

Some grocery list. Groceries my ass! Condoms… my mind wanders down the familiar gutter path. I shake my shaggy head of wet hair. Not now. But… condoms equate sex right? Oh my God. Sex with Max. Can you say nervous? And exhilarated. But nervous… shit.

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**Until next time beloved readers. Please review ****and tell me what you want in it! Tell me what you think of the POV's, if I'm pulling it off well, or if I'm epic FAILing. Thank you to all who reviewed. You light the world with spontaneous support, kudos to you.**


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